: Chapter 2
I stared Archer down as his offer turned itself over in my head. I was just as shocked as Astrid, because this man certainly didn’t strike me as the kind of guy to live in a nice, gated community out there on the beach. I mean, those houses ran anywhere from five hundred grand all the way up to five million, and some of the nicer homes even had a nice stretch of private beach all to themselves.
The dirty blonde, brown-eyed, rugged, stubble-faced, muscular man that sat beside me certainly didn’t fit the type of people that resided in such places.
Nevertheless, his place sounded amazing. I mean, falling asleep to the sounds of the ocean every night? Taking coffee and my medication on a back porch where only a few steps had my feet in the sand? The damn place sounded like vacation, and I’d never taken a genuine vacation before. My parents didn’t have that kind of money growing up. When I found my calling in the stripping world, I enjoyed my job so much that I didn’t want to take time off to go somewhere else.
Why do that when I loved the life I was already living?
Everything felt like it was moving so quickly, though. I mean, The Black Flags? Some crew taking ownership of the strip club? How did they even know that shit? And now, this crew had thrust me into the middle of it by dragging me back to, well, wherever the hell they had taken me. And with Astrid breathing down my throat and the guys congregating out in the hallway and this Archer guy offering me a place in his home to recuperate?
I didn’t know which way was up.
All I want to do is my job and get paid. That’s it.
“Look, I’ll be fine at my place, okay?” I asked.
Astrid rubbed my shin softly. “For once, I agree with Archer on that particular point. It’s not safe for you to stay at your place. At least, not for now.”
Archer commanded my attention with the strength of his voice. “And you can bet your ass that if they want to find you? The first place they’ll search is your best friend’s house.”
Astrid scoffed. “Hey. Porter and I are completely capable of defending her if that shit happens.”
I turned my eyes toward my best friend. “So, you agree with him on that point, too?”
And her eyes softened. “Please, just come home with me so I can keep an eye on you.”
I knew what I had to do, even though it meant choosing sides. Even though it meant potentially putting myself in harm’s way. Even though it meant pissing off my best friend and potentially bringing more heat down into Archer’s lap.
I knew the decision I had to make.
“Astrid, can you give us some privacy?” I asked.
Her eyes begged me. “Don’t do this. Please.”
I brought her hand to my lips to kiss. “Just a few minutes is all. Then, you can come back in. I promise.”
She glared at Archer before she stood to her feet and charged out of the bedroom. She slammed the door behind her, and I rolled my eyes before a searing pain shot through my head. I hissed, my hand coming up to my temple, and a pair of strong, warm arms immediately wrapped themselves around me.
Before Archer’s soothing voice sounded against the shell of my ear. “Let’s lay you down. You need the rest.”
I watched him carefully as he laid me down and raised himself back up. He continued to sit on the side of my bed, his right arm pressed into the mattress on the opposite side of my body. It was as if he naturally wanted to cloak me away from the world, even though it looked like he had no idea he was doing it.
And that only drew me toward him more.
“Where would I sleep at your place? I mean, if I were to agree,” I said.
His eyes danced between my own. “There’s a guest bedroom upstairs that has a beautiful view of the ocean when you’re lying in bed. I’d put you there, unless you wanted to be somewhere else.”
“Like, with you?”
He didn’t skip a beat. “Like, in one of the other three bedrooms I have in the house.”
I snickered. “That’s some serious house for only one guy.”
He shrugged. “I have hope that it won’t simply be ‘only one guy’ one of these days.”
The sentiment melted my heart. “That’s actually really sweet.”
He grinned. “And—not for nothing—but there is a hot tub on my back porch. Which I’m sure would feel good on your bruises.”
“I bet it would.”
“You’d have your own bathroom as well, with a bathtub you can relax in and a walk-in shower that would enable you to sit down in it.”
I giggled before I started coughing, and the coughing gave way to pain. I tried to raise up out of instinct, but Archer’s hands planted softly against my shoulders.
“Deep breaths. Pain coughs are a bitch,” he said softly.
Tears rose to my eyes before sliding down my face. The coughing continued until I honestly thought my bones would shatter from the force of them. But as Archer massaged my shoulders and talked softly down to me, they slowly eased up.
Before ceasing altogether.
“Need some more water?” he asked.
I swallowed hard. “Food is more like it.”
He leaned up. “We could stop and get something on the way back to my place.”
I shot him a look. “I haven’t decided what I’m doing yet.”
“You have; you just don’t want to admit it yet.”
“Cocky, aren’t we?”
He shrugged. “Realistic.”
I tilted myself toward him. “And how do you figure?”
He licked his lips, and the motion was more mesmerizing than it needed to be. “For starters, no woman in this world can do what you do and be an idiot about it. It’s dangerous, even if you believe it isn’t. That means you have a good head screwed onto your shoulders. You clearly live alone—judging by your conversation with Astrid—and that takes a whole other kind of intelligence that not everyone possesses. That tells me you’re both smart and resourceful, but the fact that you don’t want to own up to your decision tells me you’re stubborn.”
“I really don’t like being told what I am and am not thinking.”
He grinned. “I didn’t tell you what you were thinking. I simply gave breath to what you’ve already decided.”
I stared him down for a long time, trying to come up with a way he was wrong so I could throw it back in his face. But I couldn’t. He was spot-on with everything he had just spouted off to me, and it was both impressive and unnerving. I knew Astrid wasn’t going to be happy with my decision, however, I knew the safest decision for both my best friend and myself was to go with Archer.
So, I cleared my throat. “Does Chinese food count as healthy?”
Archer chuckled and the sound washed over me like warm ocean water. “Not by a longshot. But we could make it healthy.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “I’d love to hear this.”
He smiled. “Simple. We get chicken only, and we sauté vegetables ourselves.”
“What about the egg rolls?”
“Take away the outer shell and it’s just sauteed vegetables with seasoning and some juice.”
“Soup in a roll?”
He chuckled again. “Which can easily turn into ‘just soup.’”
I drew in a deep breath. “I really love some crab rangoons, though.”
“The filling’s easy. Imitation crab meat, cream cheese whipped up with some seasonings, then you mix it up together and warm it. Makes a great dip for crackers.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re a health-nut that always tries to find healthy options to genuine fast-food cravings?”
And when he answered me, his eyes sparkled. “Because you can peg me as easily as I peg you.”
I smirked. “A guy who likes a good pegging. That’s a first.”
He barked with laughter and the sound filled me with joy. For some reason, I knew I’d be okay with this man. I knew he’d protect me and keep me safe, even though I’d only been in his presence for an hour, tops.
“Okay, I’ll go with you. But only if you whip up this amazing, healthier Chinese food meal for me. Got it?” I asked.
His laughter slowly tapered down, and he took my hand in his. “It’s a deal.”
I squeezed his hand. “But we need to head back to my place to get some of my things. I’ll need to pack some clothes, some toiletries, and just generally bring some of my things from home that give me comfort.”
He nodded. “I’ll have Porter and Astrid follow us so they can help out, because the quicker we get in and out, the less risk we take on. You think you’re strong enough to ride on the back of my bike?”
“Yeah, I can cling on hard enough as long as you take it slow.”
“No drifting around turns. Got it.”
I giggled and shook my head. “You’re a real doozy, aren’t you?”
And when he winked at me, my heart fluttered in my chest. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
After catching my breath and resting for a little while, Archer let Astrid back into the room. Breaking the news to her was easier than I expected, but when Porter appeared at the door—looming over all of us—I knew he had spoken with her. I wanted to thank him, but I also didn’t want to call him out on something that was probably supposed to be kept between himself and my best friend.
So, I simply thanked Astrid for understanding before we all headed out.
Holding tightly to Archer as we rode off toward my apartment filled me with a warmth I couldn’t explain. He was comfortable despite his chiseled muscles, and the rumbling of his bike soothed my soul rather than hurt my bruised bones. I pressed my helmeted cheek against his back and closed my eyes, allowing the warm summer wind to wrap around me as we blazed a trail toward my home.
And when we pulled into my complex, Astrid helped me up the stairs.
“Why did I get the impression that you still lived in your childhood home?” she asked.
I giggled. “Because I do still spend a lot of time there. It’s just hard for me to keep living there after so much happened.”
“So, you still own the place?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I haven’t had the stomach to rent it out, but I can’t live in it, if that makes any sense.”
Porter scoffed. “She sounds like Brooks.”
Astrid giggled. “Hey, I’m not judging. To each their own.”
I’d never known her to be so nonchalant about things, and I figured Porter was rubbing off on her in a good way. Still, once we got into my apartment, I set my sights on packing. My place hadn’t been tossed and it didn’t look like anyone had been in there, so that made me feel a bit more secure with things. I still felt weak, though.
However, hanging onto a hot ass guy on the back of a motorcycle helped me to feel not so pathetic.
“You tell us what to pack and we’ll pack it for you,” Archer murmured.
He helped me over to my rocker recliner and helped me to sit down. “You sure? I’m not so beat up that I can’t help.”
He stared into my eyes. “Rest. Now, where are your suitcases?”
I pointed down the hallway. “Door at the end, suitcases are in my closet. You can leave the clothes that are hanging up there, but everything in my dresser drawer needs to be packed up.”
Astrid walked into the conversation. “What about toiletries? Everything in your shower and around the sink?”
I nodded. “And grab an extra set of my shampoo and conditioner. It’s below the bathroom sink.”
Porter made his way into the kitchen. “Got any snacks, vitamins, or shit like that you want to take with you?”
I paused. “Actually, there’s coffee and snacks in the pantry, if you’d like to pack those up.”
Archer pulled away from me. “So long as they’re healthy snacks.”
Porter chuckled. “She doesn’t need a diet, man. She needs food.”
Archer corrected him. “She needs healthy food to repair her injuries. Her body is going to use a lot of energy to—”
I waved my hand in the air. “Blah, blah, blah, just pack it up, will ya?”
Archer peered over his shoulder at me and tossed me a look that told me we’d revisit the topic, but then he winked again. And I swear, a warmth unlike anything I’d ever experienced before filled me from my toes to my nose. It was as if a tidal wave of pure energy knocked me clear off my feet, carrying me away to a sweet paradise where I wasn’t covered in stitches and bruises.
A paradise where Archer was damn near naked for me and asking to go for a swim.
But when I finally came back to reality, no one was with me. They were all packing up my things and hauling them out to Porter and Astrid’s car while I sat there like a bump on a fucking log. I hated feeling useless and weak. I’d felt that way all my life in one sense or another. It was why I had such a terrible eating disorder as a teenager. It was why I was so happy when my parents finally died in that hellhole nursing home I stuffed them into.
And it was why I hoped and prayed not to backslide into my own ways just to feel as if I had a grip on my own damn life.